Cherry Sundown
by ox-dancindarlin-xo
Summary: The Pokémon adventures are over, and our hero's are all grown up. But they haven't seen each other in years... And Ash's Pokémon are finding it difficult to forgive him. What happens when a tearful reunion could change their lives forever?
1. Long Lost Pokéball

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the creativity and storyline. All rights and characters go to original owners.**

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_23__rd__ July 1997_

_Dear Diary,_

_Today was __slow__. Work had nothing going on for me, and of course the manager was being his usual self again. I wish I could say that things picked up with Pearl in my office today, but it just stayed the same.  
You know, diary, that I'd never wanted a desk job anyway. I don't even know why I chose to write this down on my college applications. I suppose it was because everyone else was writing down-to-earth job suggestions; I guess I just wanted to fit in. My dream was to be a Pokémon master and I ended up in Pokémon soliciting? Wow.  
I still hadn't heard from...  
No, I don't want to write it. It's too sad. Change of subject, please.  
As you know, diary, from your calendar page, it's my birthday next week and I'm really not looking forward to it. Who wants to turn twenty-one anyway? Even on my eighteenth I didn't feel like celebrating without–_

_As you can expect, my Mom is being over-reactive about this whole thing. I think it's safe to say she's acting even worse than on my sixteenth – and eighteenth, too. Blubbering about how her little boy's all grown up and blah, blah.  
But even she knows I won't be able to enjoy it without __them__._

_**Don't tell me if I'm dyin'  
'Cause I don't wanna know.  
If I can't see the sun,  
Maybe I should go.  
Don't wake me 'cause I'm dreamin'  
Of angels on the moon,  
Where everyone you know  
Never leaves too soon...**_

_So, I guess that's it, diary. Same time again tomorrow.  
Ash._

Ash dropped his pen absently onto the desk and let his head flop onto his folded arms, closing his eyes in relief.

He hated talking about _them_. Ever since that time back in his hometown of Pallet – his dreaded fifteenth birthday – he'd agonised about seeing _them_. He missed them so.

He'd never admit it aloud, of course. Or even in his diary. Whenever thoughts like this crossed his mind, he would block it out by drinking or eating or exercising. But sometimes, there was just no avoiding that huge hole missing from the middle of his chest.

He hadn't seen them for six years – and yet there wasn't a second of the day when he didn't think of them.

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"Ash? What's wrong? You're not eating your breakfast."

_24__th__ July, 1997_

_Dear Diary,_

_I sat down to breakfast with Mom this morning, for the first time in way too long._

"I'm not hungry."

"But, Ash, honey–,"

_I suppose I could have been a bit nicer to her... She was just trying to help. Mothers are mothers, I suppose._

"Look, Mom! I'm not a little kid anymore, alright? I'm almost twenty-one for crying out loud! I'm moving house! You can't fuss over me all the time, OK? You're just going to have to get used to the fact that your little Ashy won't be here anymore!"

_I still can't process the look on her face. It was mangled of shock and... hurt. I didn't want to have to say it but...  
No one wants to make their Mom's faces look like that.  
She didn't say anything back, though. In fact, she didn't have time to, because I'd already stood up (well, I say stood, but I didn't really. I just got up so fast from the chair my cereal bowl fell from the table and smashed, and the chair I'd been sat on flew right across the room) and dashed outside, slamming the door loudly behind me.  
I hope she forgives me, diary. Really, I do. I don't want to cast her away too._

*sigh*

_That feeling I get in my chest is back again. That hollow, empty feeling. The feeling that felt as if someone knocked hard enough on my chest there'd hear the vacant ringing inside. The same ringing I get in my ears whenever I think of them._

...

_I passed a mirror on my way out. Outside the house, I mean. After my temper tantrum (seriously, I __was__ acting like a little kid. The kid I'd just said I __wasn't__!).  
I didn't know where I was going to go, actually. I just stormed out – you know me; my dramatic exit. Maybe if I wasn't so famous for those I wouldn't push everyone away.  
Urgh. I really wish I hadn't said that.  
Anyway, the mirror I passed. Yeah. I have to say, I looked really awful. Like __homeless__ awful.  
My hair was sticking up all over the place – more than usual, I mean. It was about eight in the morning, and I hadn't had chance to run a comb through it yet. My hair's been unmanageable ever since I was a ten year old and I wore that silly cap...  
Ah, my cap. Where is that thing, anyway?  
I was in nothing but my sweats that I'd thrown on in the morning. I go to bed in nothing but my underwear now, and I wasn't going to go down to breakfast half-naked in front of my Mom now, was I? I actually had nothing on my feet.  
Yeah.  
So, I decided I needed to go somewhere subdued before I got pulled over by one of the Jenny's (the identical and funnily enough, __related__ police officers).  
And then it hit me.  
Yes, that's right.  
Where hadn't I been since I was fifteen years old?_

"Pallet Park," Ash breathed beneath his breath, not far from his house now. As the memory of it came into his mind, he let it overcome him like a wild raging storm, swirling around him and tugging in tendrils at his clothes, pushing him back with its force and knocking him off his feet.

He began picking up speed as a single tear ran down his cheek, and he didn't care at that moment in time who was staring at him (bearing in mind it was early morning, so not many people were outdoors).

By the time he'd reached his destination, the tears were all backed up in his eyelids, making it blurry to see his way, but no more fell. It was easy for him to blink them away, but the memory still remained – haunting him.

It didn't take him any time at all to find the exact spot; the spot he hadn't visited in six years.

He was stood in Pallet Park, yes. But he was in the wildest part of it. Where there was nothing around you but trees for at least a five minute walk. Where the leaves crunched beneath your feet and twigs always caught on your clothing and scratched at your exposed skin. And if you weren't alert, a bug or two would crawl onto – and into – your clothes.

You'd think because everything about a wood looks exactly the same (tree here, tree there...) but Ash knew it so well, remembered it like it was just yesterday, considering the imprint just refused to leave his mind, lacing the edges of his dreams and the fog in his mind; _forbidden to remember_, _terrified to forget_.

Once he stood directly above it, he wasted no time in unveiling it.

He dived to the floor, to his knees, and began clawing at the soil, unravelling the earth, disturbing the unmoved leaves. He didn't care for bugs, spiders or worms. And he didn't care that the damp soil beneath the ground was coating his fingers, his hands, turning them black. He didn't care. He didn't care for anything right then. He was too far gone. _Way_ too far.

Then finally, his fingers touched it. His heart sped up, radiating its heat through his whole system, and his breath caught in his throat.

He raked desperately at the ground now, eyes wide and wild with anticipation.

Then, he saw it. Laying there, still looking brand new – yet covered in mud.

He slowly reached in, afraid that if he went for it too quickly, it would leap up and bite him – and he didn't know, maybe it would – and sighed in satisfaction as his whole hand curled round its form.

After so long... _far too long_... it was his again.

He didn't even know what had caused him to act so suddenly to get this. The only time he'd been this desperate to hold it once more was the first week he'd been without it – the first week he'd buried it. He'd distracted himself from it, then; that week afterwards.

_Whenever thoughts like this crossed his mind, he would block it out by drinking or eating or exercising._

He held it up – presenting it like a trophy – and just stared at it for a very long period of time.

Then, closing his eyes, he let his finger slip to the white circular button in the centre of it, and watched the insides of his eyelids turn red with the bright light it was emitting.

The glow died down quickly, but he still didn't open his eyes. He didn't even move – didn't even breathe. He waited. And waited oh so longingly, to hear the one thing he'd waited six whole years to hear...

"_Pikachu_?"

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_**A/N: Short for now. Will get longer, I promise :) And much, MUCH more exciting! *squeal* Next update hopefully within twenty-four hours :P ..**_

_**Song in Ash's diary at the beginning is 'Angels on the Moon' by Thriving Ivory.**_

_**Reviewers get to dig up their long lost Pokéball and open it up to see the Pokémon of their choice! :D**_


	2. Pikachu

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the creativity and storyline. All rights and characters go to original owners.**

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_25__th__ July 1997_

_Dear Diary,_

_So... I did it._

Ash stayed perfectly still, knelt on the floor in the middle of Pallet Park, his eyes closed.

"_Pikachu_?"

Ash sighed, his heart just about ready to burst with overwhelming joy and emotion. It was then, with nothing around them but the trees, the wind, the leaves blowing softly around them, he scrunched his eyes up tightly, and allowed just one more tear to fall.

That's when he felt it. The tiniest, softest, furriest touch ever. The touch he'd missed so badly.

"_Pika_?" Pikachu said, unsure, as it rest it's paw on Ash's cheek, absorbing some of the moisture into it's fur.

Then Ash cried in joy, a strangled version of a gasp and a sob, he reached out and took his Pokémon into a vice-like-grip bear hug, holding it close to his chest hard enough for nothing to ever hurt it (except him of course; at that point in time).

_Although it didn't turn out at all like I'd expected it would._

"_Pika_... _**chu**_!" The Pokémon yelled, before admitting a large voltage shock. It hit Ash square in the chest of course, and he buzzed for a second from the impact. Pikachu stopped once Ash had dropped him, of course, but it didn't stop Ash's hair from smoking.

_But... I suppose I can't really blame Pikachu. I mean, __I__ wouldn't be particularly happy if my trainer trapped me in my Pokéball and buried me in the middle of a park – abandoning me for six years. OK, I admit; I'd be livid, too._

"I guess..." Ash said, reeling from his shock – literally, "...I was a little too enthused."

"_**Pika**_!" Pikachu snapped, folding its little arms and turning it's back to Ash.

"Pikachu?" Ash asked, a little hurt. "Hey, what's up, buddy?" Pikachu didn't answer. "Look, I'm sorry I kept you locked in there for so long, but you know why I did it."

When Pikachu didn't answer again, Ash just looked down at it in exasperation. He wasn't that bad a trainer, was he? He thought Pikachu would understand... but... wow. This was breaking his heart.

_Pikachu __knew__ why I left him that awful day on my fifteenth birthday. I'd explained it and he'd understood. I guess..._

"Pikachu... Please," Ash said again in agony, closing his eyes and bowing his head, wishing this time again that he had his 'silly' cap to cover his face.

Pikachu did nothing.

_...I guess he didn't expect me to be away for so long._

"I missed you."

Then suddenly, the little yellow Pokémon turned with an angry expression on it's face, unfolding it's arms and waving them around in threatening-like gestures, waving it's tiny fist in the air. Ash didn't attempt to touch it again. "_Pika_,_ Pika, Pika__**chu**_!" The Pokémon yelled, little volts of electricity glowing from it's fur – Ash had never it this angry before, not even in battle.

"_Pika_!_**Pika-pi**_!"

Ash let it continue, to make sure it let off all it's steam before he tried reasoning with it.

_I was still Pikachu's trainer, wasn't I? I mean... I'd never __really__ left him. I always thought about him, and missed him dearly when he was gone. It just hasn't been the same without him. But now it was as if...  
I was still his trainer, but not his friend._

After what seemed like a lifetime later, Pikachu had quietened down, but hadn't let off as much steam as Ash had hoped for. He guessed he would still get a shock if he tried to touch it.

"Pikachu..." Ash said painfully, looking at the Pokémon over his brow, letting his unmanageable hair fall around his face, "Do you remember that time I was going to leave you with that pack of wild Pikachu's? And how happy I was when I'd found out you'd decided to stay with me?"

Pikachu folded it's arms and closed it's eyes, turning it's nose up in a snooty manner. "_Pikachu_," It said, nodding once to say he remembered.

"Well... just try to remember how sad you felt at the prospect of leaving... and how happy you were when I you came back."

Pikachu's eyes opened, and his head slowly craned down to peer at Ash under his mop of hair, it's arms unfolding. "_Pika_?" It said in a quiet voice, obviously doing what Ash had asked him to do – remember.

_I had nothing left to say to Pikachu. It didn't want me, and I didn't blame it. But I still wanted him as my Pokémon, of course. It was the first Pokémon I ever owned. Now I couldn't believe it was leaving me..._

"Pikachu..." But Ash couldn't finish, because a sob racked his whole body and the tears were running down his cheeks like mini-waterfalls in spring. Without thinking, he'd leapt up from the floor – from Pikachu – and covered his face with his arm as he ran out into the depth of the wood and away from his long lost Pokémon.

"_**Pikachu**_!" He heard it yell from behind him, just once. The tone was a 'come back' tone, but Ash didn't want to listen to it when he was in that state. He didn't want to rip to shreds any part of the little reputation he had left (let's face it, he was in the middle of a public park, in nothing but his pyjamas – not even shoes!).

The little Pokémon watched as it's trainer ran away from him in tears.

Again.

"_Pika-pi_..."

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Ash lay in bed, his arms up above him to support his head, and he just stared up at the ceiling.

_Mom acted like nothing had happened this morning, and neither did I. But I still felt pretty bad about it, and had to stay out even later in hope that she wouldn't see my tears. She, too, knew why I'd abandoned Pikachu and the rest of my Pokémon, and she'd told me to put a plug on my tears for them – I didn't want to disappoint her anymore than I already had.  
But I left her a note saying 'sorry' and a couple of chocolates from the box I got at an office party at work._

*sigh*

_I just wish I hadn't run away from Pikachu earlier today. It mustn't have been easy for him, watching me leave him __again__. It just...  
It hurt too bad to stay there.  
I just hope he's stayed where I can find him, and hasn't run away. Maybe he'll forgive me in the morning, if I can get to him? But... If he has ran away...  
I hope he's caught by a trainer that really appreciates him, and that will never leave him __ever__._

Ash closed his eyes as the stinging behind them became more pronounced, and he just wished he could get some sleep. But with thoughts of Pokémon swimming in his brain, it was difficult to concentrate.

_Charmander, Bulbasaur, Squirtle, Pidgeotto, Butterfree... _**_Pikachu_**_._

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It was early morning when Ash finally got some sleep.

The next morning, it took him a while to register the day before. But once it did, he leapt up from the bed and threw on the first clothes he saw, not caring whether they matched or not. He bound downstairs and into the kitchen, straightening his collar. His Mom was sat at the table, and was looking up at him in confusion.

"Where are you off to in a hurry? This is your day off work, remember?"

"Yeah," Ash said absently, snatching a piece of toast from the toaster and taking a huge bite – unbuttered, "I know, Mom. I just have to check on something first." And at that, he was out the door, yelling behind him as he went. "I won't be long!"

When Ash reached the park, it was already populated by a significant amount of people. He hadn't realised how late it was, and guessed it was about midday. He was glad that he actually had shoes on today, but he couldn't help but miss his cap. His cap that made him stand out, giving him his boyish charm.

By the time he'd gotten to his spot, the sun was burning down hard on the back of his neck, and his brow was damp.

But... where was Pikachu?

His Pokéball was still laying open on the ground, but there was no sign of Pikachu.

_Oh no_... Ash thought, his chest in a deep fog of pain, trying to cushion his bruised heart. He found himself falling to the ground, now unable to support his body, and landing on his knees once again in the dirt. But he didn't care. He didn't care for anything right then.

Choking back the tears, he sat with his eyes closed, his arms crossed around his body to hold himself, before he fell onto the grass, hitting it hard – but the pain wasn't anything compared to the stinging hole in his chest. He whispered Pikachu's name to himself, over and over again, and began wondering whether or not he was going insane.

_26__th__ July 1997_

_Dear Diary,_

_I... I...  
Oh, God, it hurts just to think about it!_

_Just leave me alone._

_Ash_

"Pikachu..." He mumbled, immensely tired now, and hot under his clothes from the burning sun beating down like a giants fist. This was his punishment, he supposed. He left his Pokémon and now his Pokémon was leaving him – maybe this time forever. But he would rather not set eyes on a Pikachu for six years and then see his own; just like he'd done to Pikachu himself. Maybe this is what Pikachu had planned. Maybe Pikachu was just angry, and felt nothing for Ash but hatred now.

The thought alone made Ash gasp out and bury his damp face in his hands, still lying sprawled out on the grass, not caring who saw, who heard, who said anything. He didn't care at all, not while the picture of him as a ten year old boy – his loyal Pikachu at his side – was still swimming endlessly around his head.

He'd gotten over this before, right?

...Maybe he just wasn't prepared to get over it again.

Pikachu was gone. And there was nothing he could do about it.

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_**A/N: Aww, doesn't your heart just bleed for him? ^_^ Pikachu will be back soon, folks, don't worry! :) Pokémon just wouldn't be Pokémon without Pikachu! Haha!**_

_**I know I was a little slow getting this up, but faster than usual, eh? ;) Next will be updated hopefully tomorrow, or at the earliest, later today! :D**_

_**Reviewers get to find Ash crying in Pallet Park and comfort him. *huggle***_

_**Kelly xxx**_


	3. Special Delivery

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the creativity and storyline. All rights and characters go to original owners.**

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"Are you sure you've got that?"

"Yeah, Mom. I've got it. Thanks."

_27__th__ July 1997_

_Dear Diary,_

_So I moved out today! Hooray!_

_Haha – that rhymed._

"Okay, honey. Well, be careful."

"Always am, Mom."

Ash's Mom stood up on tiptoe to kiss Ash on the forehead (Ash had grew considerably tall since his youth days) and Ash smiled and nodded just once as he loaded his last box – marked, '_kitchen crap_' – onto the moving van.

_I knew I said that I was sick of Mom treating me like I was still a ten year old boy, but I was definitely going to miss her. I mean, if you __didn't__ miss your mother when you moved house, you have a heart of stone! Which, of course, I don't.  
Although that's a concept I've been debating regularly._

_Of course, I wasn't moving far away from Mom. Just far enough to have my own space, but it's only walking distance if I want to visit her. It's perfect really.  
But there was only one thing missing..._

Slapping his hands together, and wiping the sweat from his brow, he turned to his mother and gave her a sheepish smile. "Well, I guess that's everything. Thanks for helping me, Mom."

She didn't reply, only grinned and reached out to give her son a loving hug.

"You take care of yourself, you hear me?" She mumbled shakily into his hair, and he rest his chin on her shoulder, closing his eyes, but he remained silent.

When they pulled away, his Mom blinked away her tears and beamed up at her son. He just gave her a shy smile back. The van driver became impatient, and revved the engine of the huge vehicle. Ash got the message, hugging his Mom one more time.

"I'll see you soon, Mom." He told her, and for a second he felt as though he was going off to be a Pokémon master again... _Huh_.

Ash walked away, waving absently to his Mom, who had glassy eyes now, and made no attempt to blink them away. Ash felt like crying again himself, but knew that now was not the best time. He lost sight of his mother around the edge of the van, and slowly crawled into the passenger seat.

Over across the other side of the road, the bushes rustled and a soft noise emitted them, as a small creature ran way.

"_Pikachu_."

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_Still no sign of Pikachu.  
I keep glancing out my window, with no avail. I know that there's a bigger percentage chance of Pikachu never returning to see me again than it coming back to me tonight.  
But the statistics didn't matter to me. I just wanted to see Pikachu. So badly I almost drew a picture of it in the corner of this page.  
I just want my friend back. That's not too much to ask, is it?  
I know I'm probably thinking too far into this. But I'd waited six years to open that Pokéball, and it's my birthday soon, and I can't bear turning twenty-one without my best friend there with me.  
I don't even know what caused me to dig it up in the first place! But I didn't regret it – the only thing I regret is running away from Pikachu (both times)._

_Ash._

Ash sighed and looked around his new bedroom. It was large and roomy and – bare. Only his bed was in there, along with a few boxes marked, '_bedroom stuff_'. He sat on the uncarpeted wooden floor, and looked around at the plain walls. His diary sat on his lap, he felt utterly alone. Silently, he got up and put his diary beneath his pillow, before sliding under the covers in his sweats. It took him a restless amount of time to fall asleep.

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_**Meanwhile:**_

_Ash!_ Pikachu thought, running as fast as it's little legs would take it through the empty streets of Pallet. It was about midnight, and Pikachu had been searching for this road for a long time. It was glad to get out of it's Pokéball, but it had had lack of exercise and was tired out easily. But it pressed on – determined to reach it's destination. Ash Ketchem's house. Pikachu had picked up his scent, and was on the path to his Mom's house.

It felt guilty for making Ash feel bad the other day in the forest, and it too had missed him very much. It also felt bad about shocking him; out of anger. Ash had just been happy to see it, and in truth, Pikachu had been glad to see him, too! But it was still angry about Ash abandoning it.

After a while, Pikachu got to the house where the scent was the strongest, and looked frantically around for a way in. The doors would be locked at this time at night, of course. But it was quite hot out, so maybe a window would be open.

And there was.

Pikachu wasted no time in trying to scramble in, and flew threw, landing in a heap on the floor. The light Pokémon made a quiet noise, not enough to wake Ash's Mom up. So it got up, and carefully made it's way around in the dark, trying to find the staircase.

It had went past the kitchen and living room now, and found them by an accident. He climbed them with minimum effort, and stood on the dark landing, looking around anxiously, trying to pick out a door to try first.

One door was open ajar, and a thin slice of silver light was beaming across the floor. This suggested that the curtains weren't drawn in the room.

Pikachu tried it, holding it's breath as it gently eased the door open. It looked in and...

It was Ash's room.

Crying out silently with joy, Pikachu jogged inside and hopped onto the bed. It hadn't expected Ash to be in there, of course. It'd watched as he and his Mom had loaded Ash's things onto a van, before Ash drove off to a new house. Pikachu wasn't fretting about where, of course. It could easily trace Ash's scent the way he'd traced it to get to Ash's Mom's house.

Pikachu waddled across the mattress and reached out beneath Ash's pillow, scanning it's little hand around the mattress. Ash's diary wasn't there.

_Hmm_... Pikachu thought, standing upright and leaping from the bed, landing with a soft thud on the floor. _I wonder where it is, then_.

Pikachu continued searching for at least an hour, in Ash's empty drawers, in his empty wardrobe, in old chests used for holding toys, even in a bag of clothes that didn't fit him anymore. But it couldn't find it anywhere.

_Where would Ash hide something that he wanted no one else to find? _Pikachu pondered, scratching it's head, blocking out the memory of the day Ash ordered him to get into his Pokéball and never come out.

And then it knew.

Pikachu ran out the room and down the stairs, flailing it's little arms around like a madman, before it jumped out the open window and into the garden again. Sniffing around at the grass, it found the scent it had wanted. _Yes_.

It settled beneath a small bush in the corner of a flower-patch, before urgently throwing the compost out the way.

Once Pikachu had removed enough soil, it saw what it was after. Carefully picking it up, it presented a piece of paper in his little paws. But then it quickly held the paper in it's mouth before dashing into the deserted street again and scanning the road for Ash's scent.

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_**A/N: OK, a little boring, I know. But this chapter is up like I promised! :) Next chapter will be hopefully tomorrow, not today. I have homework I'm behind on :P**_

_**What is on that piece of paper Pikachu picked up? And why was it so eager to get it to Ash – who had buried it there in the first place?**_

_**Anyhoo ^_^ I hope you enjoy! Reviewers get to have a Pokémon of their choice deliver a secret note to someone they care for!**_

_**Kelly xxx**_


	4. Misty

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the creativity and storyline. All rights and characters go to original owners.**

**A/N: Uh, hey! :D The trailer for this fanfiction is now on YT, if you want to check that out!  
.com/watch?v=b6ri2vjdSSM**

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When Ash woke up that morning, he felt strangely content. Apart from the fact that – due to his lack of actual sleep the night before – the bright, midday light bouncing in through his bedroom window burned his eyes.

Groggily rubbing them, he swung his legs out of the bed and sat up, all set to get ready for another slow day.

But as the covers moved from over him, something white glided down to the floor. It landed face-down, so Ash couldn't see if it had anything written on it, and wondered how it had gotten on his bed.

Maybe he'd had it in his hands last night and had forgotten about it?

He sighed and bent down, reaching out to pick it up. "It's probably just the electrical planning or information about the gas or–," But Ash stopped short when he'd saw what it was.

Because when he'd turned it over in his hands, his heart stopped beating.

_Only one other person knew where he'd put this_.

For on that piece of paper, was a drawing. One of Ash's drawings. Something he'd drew in the presence of his best friend – a Pokémon. Something he'd buried away six years ago.

It was crumpled of course, and he now noticed that closer up it still had traces of dirt on it. It had obviously been patted down in an attempt to make it a little more presentable – and his heart jumped at the thought of who it might have been...

Ash just stared down at it in disbelief, his mouth hanging agape in horror.

_28__th__ July 1997_

_Dear Diary,_

_So... he got it. He delivered it to me.  
I knew it was only a matter of time._

On the paper – the picture Ash had drawn – four smiling faces beamed up at him, seeming at bliss forever. Once he'd felt like that. For a long period of time, actually. And he wished so badly to feel like that again. His heart yearned for it just as much as his head.

He'd never actually been able to draw them right. He'd gotten their noses completely wrong, and their heads seemed oddly proportioned for the size of their bodies. But overall, he'd been pleased with it at the time, and spent many a minute laughing at it. But now all he felt like doing was crumpling it up in his rage and letting the tears fall as he threw it into an open flame and watched as each flake of burnt paper flew away in the breeze.

_If I ever set eyes on it again, diary, it would be a lifetime too soon._

On the paper, stood three people and a Pokémon. In the middle, Ash had drawn himself. With his hair all askew under his cap, his hand raised to show off a shining Pokéball – sporting his favourite green fingerless gloves. On his left was...

_OK... OK, diary.  
I'm just gonna write it. I knew I'd have to at some point.  
Um... right. So..._

Brock was stood on his left. His tanned skin always an envy-point for Ash, and he didn't even feel like smirking at the memory of Brock drooling all over every pretty girl he saw. Brock's brown, spiky hair was maybe a little _too _spiky, but Ash hadn't minded when he'd drawn it. Why is it that he cared so much about it now?

In front of him, popping just into the frame was Pikachu, of course. Always there; his best friend. He'd spent a while trying to get his ears right, and the smile on his face correct without messing up his face. Pikachu had been watching over his shoulder at this, of course. He remembered Pikachu snatching the pencil from him from time to time and correcting things, frustratedly.

_Good old Pikachu_.

And to his right stood–

_NO!  
__No! I am __not__ writing it! I'm sorry, no! Just one big, fat, __**NO**__!_

_..._

Misty.

*sigh*

Even to this day he'd wished he'd drawn her better. He'd never quite gotten the curve of her jaw right, or the cuteness of her small nose. Even her lips seemed wrong to him. They weren't plump enough, weren't the right shape, and something was odd in the way she grinned up at him; her girly grin – a smile he once hoped was just for him. He supposed he'd drawn her scruffy ponytail OK, he'd just coloured it in a shocking orange. The little boy inside of him still laughed at her outfit; the shorts with the red suspenders, and the yellow top showing her slim navel. But he'd focused on her eyes the most. He'd made them large, each with little white squares to show the shine. He'd coloured them an amazing aqua-blue, and spent ages perfecting every curl of every eyelash.

_It took all I had not to tear the paper into lots of tiny pieces.  
It is things like this that make me think of Pearl._

Pearl. Ash had almost forgotten about her.

Pearl was a woman in his work. She worked in the office like him, but a few floors up. She was the manager's under-study, and ran around every day doing jobs for him. Ash would often see her bumbling in the hallways, juggling mugs of coffee and a huge stack of files or papers.

She'd fallen over once. The coffee drenched the files, and she dashed off to tell her boss before Ash had any time to help her. He'd hoped to catch her with that thing he often sees in the movies. You know, when the girl falls down and has to pick up all her papers, and the hero goes to help her, and their hands end up touching, and there is this awkward moment when they just look at each other – and it's from that moment on that they realise they want to be together.

But, that never happened, of course. Pearl didn't even know Ash existed. He would always run off like a chicken whenever girl-trouble arised. Or he had his chance to woo her. Funny really, how he would be willing to dash in front of a moving van for a Pokémon, but when it comes to girls he is a total coward!

Deep down, however, Ash knew the real reason he'd never been able to get anywhere with Pearl.

And that reason was staring up at him from the paper, grinning up at him her girly grin.

* * *

_I tried the park at noon. Again.  
I didn't even bother to throw on anything presentable; I practically went out in my sweats after breakfast (with shoes, of course). All I cared about was finding Pikachu, not what people thought of me.  
But then something happened..._

When Ash had almost reached the fringe of the wilderness part of the park, he heard some bushes rustle, and froze on the spot, listening.

Then he saw it. A small, yellow figure running away into the forest.

"_**Pikachu**_!" Ash yelled, dashing out after it. He only caught sight of its tail, that's how fast it was moving, but it was definitely Pikachu. _His _Pikachu. "Hey, Pikachu – wait up!"

Pikachu led Ash quite a far way out, through bushes and dodging twigs, jumping over logs and swatting away bugs. But Ash never stopped, not even for a second. He didn't care how fast his heart was beating, or how much he wanted to rest. He just cared about Pikachu.

_But then the unexpected – and unbelievable – happened._

_I need to work on my reflexes a little_, Ash thought as he watched Pikachu dash round a tree trunk and into a corner. He was quick behind him, of course, but he came smack-damn into something; something hard.

He fell onto his butt, and held his head in his hand. "_Ow_," he grumbled, steadying himself and opening his eyes as he pulled his hand from his head. He thought he'd hit the tree until he looked up and saw what he'd _actually_ hit.

A girl with flame-orange hair and bright aqua eyes was gazing down at him, her full, perfect, pink lips forming a shocked 'o'. She wore three-quarter length jeans – with red suspenders – and a green top, coming to just over her naval.

They both remained frozen, just staring at each other wide-eyed for a while, before a magical voice came from the girl's mouth. A voice he'd desired to hear for at least six years.

* * *

"_**Ash**_?"

_**A/N: *screeeeeeeam*! Oh my God! Cliff-hanger! I feel bad! :O**_

_**You enjoy it, though, right? ;) You like how I leave you hangin'.**_

_**Once again; trailer link here, people. I made it myself!  
**_**.com/watch?v=b6ri2vjdSSM**

_**Reviewers get to bump into their long-time crush in a deserted forest after a Pokémon of their choice leads them there. :)**_

_**Kelly xxx**_


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